Broken Hearts, Broken Blades

Chapter 6: Isolation

Sevira:

I hated to admit it, but he was right--the cold was making me sluggish, and it was getting hard to see the path ahead. My fingertips were even starting to get numb. "Damn you," I muttered. Every fiber of my being told me not to, but I couldn't stay out in this weather, regardless of what I did. I turned and went back, following the small, rapidly-fading footprints. He was small but surprisingly easy to track.

The cabin he was talking about came into view after a fair distance; long after his tracks had faded. I picked up my pace and hurried to the door. There was already a thin stream of smoke coming from the chimney--he had to be inside. I knocked hard and tried the door. It flew open, and Simon darted to his feet, raising the knife.

"Don't point that at me, Simon, unless you want to have your arms ripped off."

He relaxed and set it aside, shutting the door behind me. "Hey, you're the one who just barged in. What changed your mind?"

I felt my heart jump a little. It'd been a while since I had someone around that stuck around for more than a few minutes. And I couldn't admit that he was right--but I also didn't want to admit that I was wrong.

"The path ahead was covered with snow, and I thought it was better to not get buried in a snowdrift." It wasn't entirely a lie, but I would rather admit to caution than to being wrong. "How did you get a fire going?"

He shrugged. "It's not that hard. Get a nice spark, and the dry firewood just lights up."

I set my ax aside and pulled a chair to sit on. "Impressive. The way you act, I assumed you would sit in the dark and freeze."

He flashed me a smile. "Then you're not a good judge of character." He nodded to my bag. "Don't worry about your stuff by the way. I made sure it didn't get soaked." I looked down at it--he didn't even open it up.

"I appreciate that." I pulled the helmet off and set it aside. "And do you plan on hiding in here until the storm passes?" He shrugged.

"Ideally, yes. I may not be some rugged, badass warrior, but I pride myself on being practical. I'm not going to get myself killed for your vendetta, no offense. But I think you're the same way--you won't die for a cause that isn't your own."

I couldn't argue with that. "Be that as it may, I am determined to find these people, and put them down." A flash of anger crossed his face.

"Were we anywhere else, I'd gladly just take that answer. But when you point a knife and ax at my throat, I think I'm owed a few details."

"You're owed nothing, boy! You're lucky I let you live in the first place. I allow you to follow along because you're clearly too clueless to navigate this land by yourself, with the only condition being you carry your weight. Why you follow along isn't your concern."

"If I'm risking my ass for you, I have a right to know why." I let out a huff and turned away. I had given him an answer already--I wasn't going to repeat myself. "Fine, be that way."

I stood up and crossed to a small stack of crates beside the bed. Most of the contents were replacement timber for the cabin and tools. Nothing worthwhile. He sighed and leaned back to look at the ceiling.

I did my best to keep my eye on him. He hadn't been a threat so far, but that didn't mean I could let down my guard. It wasn't the big targets you had to watch out for--the smaller ones were more dangerous.

"How long do you think that storm is going to last?" he asked.

I looked through a gap in the curtains--the wind was blowing hard, and snow was coming down in droves. "I can't tell. Could be a few hours, could be a day." He gave a short nod and looked at his feet.